“It really doesn’t matter,” Frank said. “I have no doubt it was an accident.”
“Of course it was,” insisted the man who had offended. “Youse is a gentleman, youse is, an’ I apologizes.”
“Does that mean I ain’t no gentleman?” asked the sailor, in fierce tones.
“Youse kin take any meanin’ from it youse likes,” was the cool answer. The newcomer was about to walk away, when the sailor stepped up to him quickly, fairly crowding Ned and Frank together to do so, and he grasped the shoulder of the fellow who had apologized to Frank.
“I’ll show youse who’s a gentleman!” cried the sailor. “You can’t insult me, nor bunk inter friends of mine!”
The two stood close together glaring at one another, with Ned and Frank between them. A crowd gathered in front of the moray tank.
“Come on, Ned, let’s get out of here!” whispered Frank into his brother’s ear. “There’ll be a fight in a minute, and we don’t want to be mixed up in it.”
The two belligerents separated for a moment, and the lads slipped out of the throng. As they did so an officer sauntered up.
“Here, youse! Cut out that rough stuff and beat it!” he said to the two quarrelsome men. The latter never so much as replied, but quickly disappeared in the crowd. There was some laughter.
“One was afraid, and the other didn’t dare,” commented a man.